When Tenrad rushed out of the building, Jenne heard a cry from Renna Sorel across the church. She warned him to cover his ears, but he reacted a second too late. Explosions followed, shaking everything. Jenne feared for his life, realising he had never experienced an ascender fight before, and he began to question the relevance of his studies at Se Fina.

  As he cowered on the ground, many rushed out of the church to capture the fight on their phone cameras. Tenrad Gallant’s relatives restrained Ursel, preventing her from aiding her father. She screamed “Krima!” again and again throughout the fight.

  Demettle Deus and his son stood beside Ren Firios’ casket, keeping a watchful eye during the tremors. The Sorels huddled close, staring up at the rumbling ceiling. Jay remained aloof, fidgeting with his phone and forcing a yawn.

  Commands from the authorities, wailing sirens, grown-ups murmuring in hushed tones. From time to time they would pause, glance at Jenne and his friends, then continue speaking.

  A car was waiting to take them back to Se Fina, with an officer assigned to escort them. They made their way outside. A crowd filled the courtyard, gathered to witness the aftermath: broken concrete, scattered cobblestones, chunks of ice gleaming with blood on their watery surfaces. A man had a shard of ice stuck in his thigh. Two medical professionals helped him into an ambulance. Soldiers wrapped enchanted paper around dark blades lying across the ground.

  A crazed man pushed through the crowd, recording himself on his phone as he dodged the soldiers. He lunged for one of Tenrad’s blades. The moment he touched it, his eyes turned violet and he thrashed on the ground, screaming. Officers stepped back as medics rushed to help. They tossed a sheet bearing the Creator’s Sign over him.

  The Gallants marched down the stairs like a small unit of soldiers. Ursel approached an officer. He took a step back, shielding his eyes from the sun, and pointed to the church roof.

  “Get down from there, Dad,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

  “Can they do that?” asked Hamis, and everyone turned to him. “Can they just walk away from this?”

  “The Regals made sure our kind could walk away from any crime,” said Schemel. “Regis made sure of that thirty years ago.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Ashey. “Why don’t we blow up the city while we can?”

  “How is this not a problem?” asked Hamis.

  “Well, it hasn’t been a concern for Henrikians for thirty years,” said Mariel. “Until now.”

  From what Jenne could see, the public did not mind the violence at all. After years of playing video games and watching films about Gaverians, the average Henrikian mind was well prepared for violence. The exception was people like Jenne, who had never liked Gaverians. The thought of such powerful beings living among them terrified him. If the Blood Storm had succeeded in burning everyone in the church this afternoon, things would have been very different.

  “There is going to be much discussion at the Assembly,” said Demettle. “And we should expect our Yunnish friends to make a return soon.”

  Schemel and Mariel rolled their eyes at the same time. They both placed their hands on their waists and sighed.

  “Great,” they both said, almost in unison.

  No one else seemed to notice the glitch except Jenne. Mariel could pass as Schemel’s doppelg?nger. The only way Jenne could tell them apart was through the familiarity of Schemel’s subtle mannerisms.

  Schemel walked the three students to their car.

  “I am very sorry that your education hasn’t gone as smoothly as I would’ve liked,” she said to Jenne, a hand on the car door. “I promise, when the dust clears, I will be right back at Se Fina.”

  She forced a wide smile, which he did not return.

  “Renna,” he said. “What’s happening at Blackwood?”

  “Nothing.” Her hand curled into a fist, then released at once. Smiling again, she placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Get some rest and focus on your studies. Nothing is happening at Blackwood, okay?”

  Schemel was about to close the door when Ashey climbed over Hamis and Jenne.

  “Mom, there is something I have to tell you.”

  “Later.” The door slammed shut. The driver drove off.

  By sunset, the three were on the stairs of their small hut. They each had their problems.

  As time wore on, the ache in Jenne’s chest grew worse. “I don’t think I’m ever going to see my father again,” said Jenne. “Or my mother.” Ashey lifted her head from her knees when he said that. Hamis blinked away his tears and frowned as well. “I think something has gone wrong in Blackwood.”

  “Is it because of what my mother said?” asked Ashey.

  “I might never find out the truth until I leave this place. I have to take my studies seriously from now on.”

  Hamis opened his hands and rested them on his knees. A soft pull of the wind brought petals from the gardens into his palm.

  “People like Regilon and Tenrad have forgotten what ascenders are meant to be. It’s up to us to let the world know what it means to be a true Gaverian. We should be heroes, just like my uncle.”

  “Your uncle was not a hero,” said Ashey. “He was fighting for my mum in the Midder-Lands. They’re all wretched, horrid people, and he deserved to die.”

  She rushed into the house. Hamis sat frozen on the stairs and stayed that way until Jenne called his name.

  “I’m still going to set the right example,” said Hamis, shaking off Ashey’s words. He stood, helping Jenne up. Hamis outstretched his hand.

  “May the best student win?”

  “May the best student win.”

  They shook hands.

  Following their pledge that day, Jenne and Hamis spent every spare second buried in books, cramming in as much knowledge as they could. Father Jade met them in class.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “There have been many great battles fought between Gaverians,” he said. “One that is rare is a fight between Gaverians of the same nation.”

  Their assignment was to write detailed reports on every schism between Henrikian Gaverians from the year 200 to the present.

  The easiest to cover was the rivalry between Regilon and Tenrad. The two had fought many times, though the reasons were never clarified. Some history books suggested jealousy—Tenrad envying Regilon’s status. It did not sit right with Jenne, yet Father Jade considered his report excellent.

  Hamis recounted his grandfather’s battle with Ashey’s ancestor, Varmel, and even wrote a script for a play reenacting their rivalry, which Father Jade enjoyed.

  Spell-Casting, Bio-Ascension, Ethereal Meditation, each subject seemed less challenging with every passing week. Jenne answered thoroughly in class, pausing to listen whenever Hamis offered deeper insight.

  They often studied in the library, Jenne sitting on the bare floor while Hamis rested his head in Jenne’s lap. A massive textbook floated above them. Hamis, eyes closed, tilted his head now and then to flip the pages.

  “I won’t be in school tomorrow,” Hamis said. “We’re taking my uncle to the catacomb.”

  “Can I come?”

  “No, it’s family business.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “Well, there’s something else to worry about. Schemel isn’t coming back anytime soon, and my uncle is very dead. We need tutors for Hyper-Physicals and I know the perfect place.”

  “Ren Gallant?”

  “No,” scoffed Hamis.

  “Who then?”

  “Dominus,” Hamis said.

  “This continent—or the video game?”

  “Think about it. Dominus has markers and crafters. All we have to do is copy the moves from the game.”

  “I don’t know…”

  It did not stop Hamis from following through after he returned from the burial service. They spent hours locked in his bedroom, taking notes on every punch, kick, and special ability used by both Firios’ and Schemel’s characters in Dominus. Silly as it seemed, it was important to Hamis, so Jenne went along with it.

  “All right, ready for our first practice?” said Hamis, standing out in the grass with Jenne.

  They faced each other with their notepads lying in the grass beside them. Hamis suggested they spar once to see how good they were. Nothing about it felt right. Jenne was sure he was about to get hurt very badly. They raised their fists and spread their legs apart.

  “I’ve never been in a fight before,” said Jenne. “Please don’t let us take it too far.”

  “You fell out of the church tower and were fine after, remember?” Jenne did not want to remember.

  “Why can’t we practise on harmless objects first?” asked Jenne.

  “Because you’ll be fighting real bad guys soon. People aren’t going to sit around and take hits. They’ll hit you back. Come on, you’ll be fine.”

  Jenne pinched his face and clenched his fists, though for the wrong reasons. Hamis roared, charging him down. Jenne screamed and bolted for the bush. A pulse rippled through the grass, slapping Jenne in the back, and he fell, rolling towards a tree. The next thing he saw, Hamis was soaring above him, coming down like a cannon.

  A ray of light struck Hamis aside. Jenne scrambled to his feet and ran to the nearest tree. He climbed it in a rush, hugging a branch. How had he managed that so quickly? He had never climbed a tree in his life.

  “You can’t hide there forever,” said Hamis in a Sexite accent. “I’ll kill you, Henrikian scum.”

  “I’m not Henrikian!” screamed Jenne.

  Hamis thumped his chest. The tree began to shake. Jenne gripped tighter, shutting his eyes. What would Schemel do? His head dangled as the tree shook harder. He opened one eye, let go with one hand, nearly slipped, then grabbed the branch with both hands again.

  Hamis grinned like a villain. Branches snapped around them, pointing at Jenne.

  He could make a sign. A ray from the sun would slash through Hamis’ projectiles. Jenne stretched out his hand as the first branch shot past his cheek.

  “Hamis!” he screamed.

  “I won’t miss next time,” said Hamis.

  Jenne looked up at the blue sky and yellow sun, slashing his hand down.

  Nothing happened.

  The power of the sun was not at his fingertips. Hamis clutched his stomach for a dramatic laugh and unleashed the branches. They whipped and battered Jenne until he tumbled out of the tree. It was not a pleasant afternoon.

  Jenne spent time alone in the library afterward, digging through old texts on fighting techniques. One thing he learned was that the ancient ascenders loved giant swords. They looked incredible wielding them but he was small, with skinny arms. He needed something easier to learn. After some searching, he found the perfect style: the Dancing Dagger.

  That would be his path. He would master it and beat Hamis tomorrow.

  Jenne didn’t yet know how to craft a real dagger, but he had a couple of sticks he’d found in the bushes. Hamis snatched them away and beat Jenne over the head. That ended their sparring for the day.

  The next morning, Father Jade had them for Contextual History. He continued to speak at length about Regilon and Tenrad’s recent fight at the church.

  “It does not matter if the Henrikian public is indifferent to unregulated ascenders,” he said. “The Yunnish are not happy. They are pushing for Shaphet’s Law to be reinstated into Henrikian society.”

  “I know what happened was bad, but was it that bad?” asked Hamis.

  “It was more or less the final straw,” said Father Jade. “Renna Sorel’s behaviour during the negotiations stained our relationship with the Yunnish. They say she is arrogant and stubborn. You won’t be meeting Renna Sorel again for some time. Though I had expected to see her daughter today. Where is Ashey?”

  Where was Ashey? Jenne remembered a vague conversation with her a few days ago, but he couldn’t recall the details.

  “Hamis, would you know?” he asked.

  “No,” said Hamis, his face blank.

  “Would you care to find out?”

  “No, Sir,” Hamis replied. “I don’t care where she is.”

  Father Jade grimaced but said nothing.

  “She’s sleeping over at a friend’s house,” Jenne stated, remembering at last.

  “On a Monday?” Father Jade asked.

  “She lost track of time,” Jenne added quickly.

  Father Jade’s brow creased. “And what friend is this?”

  “Nicholas, I think,” mumbled Hamis with a frown. “They’re friends from her old school.”

  All of a sudden, Jenne felt Ashey’s absence. He couldn’t help noticing how far behind she had fallen. Everything had started to unravel when her mother returned from the Midder-Lands, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

  “Why won’t she leave?” Eva asked when they told her about Ashey during lunch. “You two run so fast she has no hope of catching up.”

  “You make it sound like it’s our fault,” said Hamis. “She’s the one skipping class.”

  Eva sighed in surrender. “I’m not blaming anyone,” she said. “All I’m saying is you could take on more responsibility by helping her.”

  “We don’t know where she is exactly,” said Jenne. He knew he had spoken out of turn. Quietly, he turned to his partner. “Hamis, do you know?”

  “Forget about Ashey,” said Hamis.

  “She’ll come by,” said Eva. “Once she does, you boys had better treat her like she’s part of your group.”

  Like parents, both boys sat waiting in the living room, hoping Ashey might walk through the door at any moment. They left the TV on and played a round of cards. Eight, nine, ten in the evening. Ashey did not come home. Jenne lay on the floor, his eyes growing heavy, while Hamis yawned on the couch.

  “Should we try sparring again tomorrow?” Hamis asked. “I think you’re getting better at fighting.”

  “I have other plans,” Jenne lied.

  “What plans?”

  “I asked Ms Class if it would be okay to find a new Hyper-Physicals tutor,” said Jenne. “I’ll be heading over to Ren Gallant’s house to see if he can, um, teach me.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Sure.”

  Jenne got out of the house early the next morning and went straight to Ms Class’ office, trying to make his excuse true. The headmistress was hesitant to comply; she felt it would upset Schemel.

  “It doesn’t have to be official,” said Jenne. “I’m only going to Tenrad to gain some experience.”

  “If you put it like that,” said Ms Class, “you’ll do it in your own free time. Ren Gallant won’t be coming here.”

  “I will go to him. I don’t mind that.”

  “And everything he teaches you will be non-scoring.”

  “Sure.”

  “And please, Jenne, don’t tell Schemel about this.”

  After Bio-Ascension class, the two boys made their way to the school Ring. A dashboard stood beside it; they needed to input certain details, such as the destination they were heading to and a valid index number, before the Ring would activate. Jenne’s index was 003k. He punched in the two zeros and the three but couldn’t find the ‘k’.

  “Ketr,” said Hamis. “From maths class?” It was a symbol of symmetry, a shorthand used in Henrikian numeracy. It meant the ID wasn’t 003, but 003300. Jenne punched in the digits, and the Ring opened a portal to the one nearest Tenrad Gallant’s home.

  The rest of the Home of Heroes was as serene as ever: wide green fields and clear blue skies. He didn’t adore it as much as he used to, but it felt good to be out of school for once. Hamis led the way along the street as they made their way to Tenrad Gallant’s house.